Reunion
by Jaganashi
Summary: The last we've seen of Karai, she was battered and bruised with a recently ejected brain worm. The Hamato clan continues to search for her, but is there any hope left to be salvaged? How does one heal and learn to function in a family so different from the one she had been raised with?
1. Reunion

A/N: Parts of this multi-chapter was written and published on Tumblr for Leorai week a while back. I've decided to flesh this out into a more cohesive story, so there will certainly be new material coming.

* * *

There was no measure of time to be found in the dark isolation of the underground tunnels. Morning into night, days into weeks; one part of the sewer looked just like the other. Karai could tell the passing of time only by the fact that when one disorienting nightmare ended, another would begin. Faces, some human and some not, all of them telling lies. The lines of love and hate, loyalty and betrayal, would intersect in her dreams. What was truth, and what were just figments of a battered mind and broken psyche? She no longer had the luxury of certainty.

The Shredder did this to her. Oroku Saki. Her Sensei. Her Father.

A lifetime of love and devotion, the likes of which only a child can deliver. A heart turned callous and bitter, both by the demands of her father's business and by the poison he would whisper into her ear. Where other fathers would tell bedtime stories, Karai had been visited only by one repeating tale: her mother's death at the hands of a jealous and vengeful Hamato Yoshi. A young lifetime of hate and obligation had been turned on its side and then shaken. Her mind and spirit felt like a snow globe that had been dropped, cracked, then picked up and thrashed so that all the sharp, jagged pieces would fly about cutting into everything that was left.

Her body was filthy and malnourished as she wandered the darkness. There were no homes and no reasons. Even light itself seemed inappropriate to her. She would stagger until she could move no more, then collapse into fitful sleep until the terrors would wake her again.

How much of her shattered world was true? Hamato Yoshi was in truth her father, if she could believe the memory of that tearful reunion in his home. But if the Hamato clan were her true family, then she had betrayed them to the very man who killed her mother.

Karai stumbled, jolting a sharp agony through her muscles like lightning. Her joints ached as she landed hard to her knees on the grimy concrete. The pain that wracked her body paled to the torment of her feverish thoughts.

So close. She had been so close to killing those four turtles. Worse yet, she had made a spectacle of their pain. Even if they could believe that she had been somehow mind controlled, they had seen her deep ugliness. The manipulation, the creativity of torture, and the sadistic glee had all been bared for them to witness. Her mind had been filled with falsehoods and her focus was being forced upon whatever task he ordered, but the remaining parts were still her. They all saw what lied behind her skilled control and natural cockiness: A core of appalling spite. A vengeful heart and a sadistic nature.

Finally, the daughter that Saki had wanted.

Karai's fingers curled with inescapable self loathing, the tips of her nails scraping and breaking against the rough concrete. The sting was sharp, but it wasn't enough. It would never be enough.

She had lost her first family as nothing but a baby, her world ripped away from her in fire. Her childhood had been spent with a clan that was not her own, where she had been merely used to further an evil man's selfish agenda.

With fingers now bloody and raw, squeezed tight into fists, she beat at the ground and screamed out her fury. Her loss. She screamed and screamed until her lungs worked soundlessly and the echoes faded.

Just as she had allowed herself to believe that maybe, just maybe, her twisted, convoluted life could be salvaged...she was used again and manipulated into showing her vile character.

Her lips parted into a snarl, the delicate points of her fangs exposed in the semi-darkness.

It was perhaps fitting, she thought, to be endowed with scales that slither low to the ground and fangs filled with venom. The mutation was there, beneath her skin and in her blood. It had become a part of her, subdued but always swimming somewhere between instinct and comprehension. Like a low hiss that whispered across her skin, reminding her that she had lost even her humanity.

She touched her forehead to the tunnel floor, taking some small relief in the contact of the cold against her fevered skin.

There was a memory, held resilient only by the sheer necessity of her to have _something_ to hold on to for comfort. Even if it had only been the fabrication of a brutalized mind, Karai held the moment dear. Coney Island. Leonardo. Those kind eyes never flinching as she hissed her displeasure of a deteriorating mind. She had been so frightened, but his eyes had been so sure as his hand remained steady. In her state of confusion and hopelessness, he had risked life and limb to comfort her.

She felt the tears slide down her face as she tried to wrap the memory around her. His hand, calloused from training and from battle, had been so tender against her skin. His expression had been so vulnerable. Leonardo showed her all the things that she had been taught a ninja could not be, yet it had been exactly what she needed. Blue eyes scanning her own, imploring them to belong to someone that he still knew.

'Well,' she thought to herself, 'he knows me now.' She had smiled, _smiled_ as a whirlwind of blades descended upon him within the torture chamber. She had mocked him, humiliated him, and had been damn close to killing his brothers along with him.

Her body shuddered from hunger and exhaustion. Her frame trembled constantly, mind swaying between bitterness, sorrow, and a burning self disgust. She was strong once, highly ranking and widely respected. Confident. There had been a time, not too long ago, that her identity had been like a mountain. Strong and proud, with jagged edges that could sweep away lesser men and women like an avalanche.

She gasped in pain as the muscles of her stomach clenched in a threatening demand. She had been barely surviving on the findings of small animals and refuse, but her resolve to survive had been dwindling as time slipped by in solitude. She pressed a shaking hand against her abdomen, willing the pressure to subdue the pain.

She would much rather wrap herself within that false comfort again. With her palm shoved roughly against her stomach, she squeezed her eyes shut and visited Coney Island. The night air that carried the scent of stale popcorn and gear oil and turtles. The concern in his eyes. The three-fingered hand that had held so much hope and promise, reaching out to her. The strength of his arms as they wrapped around her shoulders.

Her body gave a start, barely noticeable through the shaking. She had visited the memory countless times in her wandering, and never had he wrapped his arms around her. It was new, but not unwelcome. She felt her body sag against the strength of it, expecting to meet the concrete and be jarred from her semi-consciousness.

"Karai."

She could hear his voice, so real. A name that he must no doubt curse at this point. She cringed, trying desperately to return to her daydreaming attempt at contentment. To push out the pain and anger and confusion.

"Karai. Come on, wake up."

No. How dare he? Even her memories betrayed her, rejecting her bid for solace. Something touched against her forehead and bewildered as she was, she couldn't remember if she was still resting her head against the ground. She felt as if she were propped up, but couldn't remember rising to that position. There were noises, like a constant string if words that she could only catch pieces of.

"It's Leonardo."

Her eyes blinked open, perplexed and not completely coherent. Eyes wide in a mix of excitement and worrisome anxiety stared at her, framed in blue. His mouth was moving, and she had to concentrate to understand.

"...Heard you scream...been looking...have a fever…"

It was too much to process, so she closed her eyes against the uncertainty of his presence. So focused on remembering him, she was certain that her mind had finally dissolved the line between reality and illusion. Conceding to defeat, she slumped bonelessly into those arms that felt so secure around her. Before succumbing to unconsciousness, she was shifted to press more fully against his firm plastron and lifted into a carry.

It wasn't the illusion that she had been trying to wrap around herself, but it was a damn good one to slip away to.


	2. Injured

The first inklings of awareness filled Karai's senses as a warm comfort. Soft fabrics touched her skin and the thin plush of a mat cradled her stiff and sore body. As she struggled to wrestle free of the unconsciousness that threatened to pull her back down, she realized that her face was being held by a warm and calloused hand. Slender fingers had her head tilted up as cool liquid trickled into her mouth to slide down her throat. In honesty, the sensation was a cooling comfort in her parched mouth. That fact played as little consolation to her reflexes, that caused her head to jerk away from the manipulation.

"My daughter."

The voice managed to be tender and sad and hopeful, all at once. It broke her heart to hear it, and the pieces seemed to fall down into the pit of her stomach as she realized where she was. With eyes still shut, she turned her face away from the rat at her side. She couldn't bare to look at him and see the shame reflected in his eyes.

The back of his hand, covered in a layer of soft short fur, brushed against her cheek. She winced, squeezing her eyes tighter. Something akin to relief washed over her as she sensed Splinter stand and walk toward the door of their little room. The reprieve was short lived, however, when his voice called out. "Leonardo. Warm the soup and bring it here."

Tears prickled at her eyes as her spirits sank even lower. Yoshi. Leonardo. They were all here, no doubt. She was thankful that they were alive and well, but she wanted nothing more than to sink back into the darkness and disappear from the reality of her actions. She had caused them so much pain, yet they were nursing her as if they didn't realize how undeserving she was.

Splinter was by her side again, stroking her face. She laid there in silence, hoping that it would all be over if only she ignored it. His voice suggested otherwise. "Miwa." There was another wince at the corners of her eyes, as if the name brought with it some physical blow. "We have searched for you all this time, hoping to bring you home. And now you are here, among family, and things will be better."

She couldn't believe that. He wanted his daughter, understandably, but Karai was certain that such a girl no longer existed. Whatever it was that he wanted, she was convinced that it couldn't be found within her. How _could_ it be there, when she felt nothing but dragging emptiness that echoed with misery. She had nothing of worth to give to the man that sat at her side.

"How's she doing, Sensei?" Leonardo entered his father's room, cradling a bowl of warm chicken broth. Don had insisted that they start her off with fluids only, so Leo had scooped the pasta and vegetables out of the can of chicken noodle soup himself. He approached the bed to see their charge lying prone, facing the wall with eyes shut.

Splinter gestured toward his son, his voice gentle. "Leonardo is the one who found you."

Her eyes opened, but she stared off toward the nothingness of the unadorned wall. The orbs shone wetly but made no glance to the other inhabitants of the room. Leo looked toward his father, who merely sighed subtly and took the bowl to set on the low end table by the bed. Splinter gave her hair a gentle pat. "The food will do you good." He looked at his son and nodded toward the door, indicating that it was time to leave.

Once the door was closed behind them, Mikey leaned over the back of the couch to call out to them. "So? Is she awake? How is she? Is she, like, scary Karai or sister Karai today?"

Splinter's eyes lowered as he moved away from the door. "She is awake for now, but hasn't spoken. I fear that the deepest injuries are within."

Donatello stepped forward then hesitated, hand going up to rub the back of his head. His eyes darted around a bit before settling on his Sensei. "But Mikey has a point. How do we know for sure that the brain worm is gone? She could still be under its control."

Splinter gave a curt shake of his head, "No." He sighed, expression soft and voice filled with sadness. "If that were the case, then her eyes would not be burning with shame and misery as they do."

Donatello held his tongue as his father headed for the dojo. He trusted Splinter's judgment, but the entire situation struck too many chords for his father. That's why once Splinter left the room, followed closely by Leo, Don inched toward the door that Karai lay behind. His attempt at casual nonchalance looked far too suspicious to be convincing, but Mike and Raph said nothing to draw attention to it. Quietly, Don clicked the door open and slipped inside, letting it close behind him.

His eyes adjusted to the semi-darkness quickly, helped by the flickering candle Splinter had left on a low table. He whispered, "Karai." Receiving no response, he advanced toward the mat that his Sensei used as a bed. The broth was cooling next to the bed, but her body remained unmoving. He knelt next to her, debating on how to go about making certain that they were safe. He needed some sort of confirmation that the worm had been expelled, most especially since Stockman had obviously improved the process since using it on Raph and the Mutanimals.

He swallowed loudly then gathered his courage, hand reaching out to give her shoulder a shake.

Karai was pulled from her muddled unconsciousness with a start, eyes snapping open to find a brown eyed turtle staring down at her inquisitively. Her mouth worked involuntarily and she heard her own voice from a distance, as if it didn't belong to her. "Donatello…"

She could still remember his screams, high and piteous every few moments as the helmet sent electricity zapping through his brain. She remembered adjusting the chair herself, making it a perfect fit for his height and frame. She had secured the headgear onto the unconscious turtle, then mocked him once he woke.

His screams had reverberated through her mind as she wandered those tunnels alone. She had tortured him, nearly killing one of the few people who had truly kind intentions. He had made an antidote for her mutation. While it hadn't worked, it had been something done to help her, without any of the steep prices that she had come to expect from people. He had tried to save her, to be a brother to her. Yet she was responsible for that heart-stopping, tormented screaming. It was all that filled her mind when she looked upon him.

Donatello's mouth hung open, his calculated string of questioning forgotten in the wake of Karai's response. Her eyes were wide and glistening, horror written across her face. Her raw, petrified expression slowly shifted into one of guilt and shame, tears gliding down the corners of her eyes.

Before he could think of an appropriate response, she squeezed her eyes shut and turned her face away. His hand was left holding empty air as she turned away, rounding her shoulders to help hide her face. She could still hear the screaming so relentless in her memories that Don's words fell upon deaf ears. "It'll be okay, Karai."

Once Don left the room and closed the door behind him, he was bombarded by four pairs of eyes. He had apparently not been as sneaky as he and hoped, as all three brothers and his father now stared at him expectantly. He held a hand out, paused, then let it drop. With a thoughtful expression, he admitted, "You're right, Sensei. She seems to be herself." He fidgeted with one of the wrappings around his arm, eyes glancing at Raph and Mike who were waiting for his diagnosis. "And she seems to...remember."

* * *

The lair was dimly lit and quiet when the door to Splinter's room opened. With stiff movements, a small figure emerged tentatively. She looked around, holding herself still for several moments, before silently making her way toward the dojo. Another shadow appeared from within a different room, following with more fluidity.

There were candles lit, where Splinter had no doubt been trying to meditate earlier. The room was empty now, encouraging Karai to venture further in. Her steps were slow and her feet kept low to the ground, as if it were a strain just to move. With aching muscles, she stepped up to the weapons wall and scanned the objects for several minutes. Zai, bo staff, nunchaku, butterfly swords, various throwing daggers…

Her eyes contemplated each item, weighing its length, weight, and quality of blade. Her sights landed on a pair of katana, their handles wrapped in blue, and she felt something stir within her. She shut the feeling away and reached out for one, admiring the balance of it in her hand. It wasn't the tanto that she preferred, but the edge had been kept sharp. She raised the blade for further scrutiny and was startled by the reflection that stared back. Her face was pale and her eyes were sunken in dark sockets, but most disturbing of all, was the striking emptiness of their depths.

She was ready for this.

Grasping the handle with both hands, she turned the blade inward to rest the point against her abdomen. She closed her eyes, took in a steady breath, then…

"Don't you dare."

She opened her eyes to find Leonardo standing there, shock and anger written across his features. She had not missed the fact that it had been his weapon that she chose to use. The point of it still pressed to her stomach as she regarded him. Seppuku was traditionally committed in front of an audience, so she felt no deterrence by his presence. Brown eyes showed deep remorse and her voice held a small rasp from lack of use. "Forgive me."

She pressed against the hilt hard, then jerked her hands to the right. By the time the muscles in her arms reacted to her mind's commands, however, strong green hands were wrapped around the hilt to prevent its movement. The blade had been halted, the tip pierced through her skin but no further. Blood trickled down her abdomen as the two were locked in a stalemate. His hands pulled on the sword, but her grip was strong. He gritted his teeth, telling her to let go, but his words had no effect. In a flash, he pulled a hand away from the hilt to smack Karai hard across the face.

She staggered, giving him the opening he needed to reclaim his katana. Her eyes were wide as she turned her face back slowly. There was a hint of anger in the bewilderment of her voice. "You slapped me."

Normally, Leonardo would have been utterly mortified by his own actions. Instead, the fury he was feeling made him bark out a laugh, dry and humourless. "And why should you care?"

Her expression relaxed into something harder to read, but as long as she sat there without reaching for another blade, Leo could deal with it. She was still kneeling, hands resting on her thighs. She took a breath and exhaled softly through her mouth, eyes looking down. "I know what I've done, Leonardo."

He wanted to hit her again. He was dying to yell and scream at her for her stupidity. Her selfishness. The accusations were on the tip of his tongue. How dare she do this to them! To Splinter! To him! With great restraint, he shoved his fury deep down and counted out a four-fold breath. He gripped the hilt of his sword tightly and knelt down in front of her, mirroring her position. His words were careful, but his tone was sincere. "We all know that you were under his control. No one doubts that, and no one blames you."

There was a faint blaze to her eyes, as if the fire of her previous self still survived as a small flicker in all that darkness. "Then you are fools. The order was his, and too strong to fight. But I was still...myself." The final word doused that flicker in a wave of shame.

To her surprise, Leo nodded in agreement. "I know."

She huffed out a sigh, not sure how to proceed. He of all people understood Bushido. He understood penance. Her voice was soft, imploring. "You saw my evil. You should have left me to my death, but you didn't. And now you steal what little redemption that I have left. Why do you want to see me like this?" Her hands balled into fists atop her knees, head hanging low.

He thought about his answer, tilting his head to the side in question. "And what are you now?" She gave him a startled look, as if she had not thought to ask herself such a thing. In response to her silence, he elaborated. "What do you want to be, now that you're free of the lies and dishonor? It can be anything, you know. Anything you want to be."

Her mind reeled at his words. Her eyes looked down, then back up to meet his. She had been so consumed with the past that she had not allowed herself to consider a future. She didn't deserve one. Yet here he was, staring at her with eyes that had always believed the best of her. Even when she had been playing him, fighting him, a blade to his throat, he had consistently expected something good from her.

It was those eyes that disarmed her enough to whisper painfully, "I hear their screams. I see their faces." Her eyes darted back and forth, looking from one of his eyes to the other. "Your face is among them."

He laid his free hand on top of one of hers, gripping it affectionately. "Then it's a good thing that you're strong enough to overcome these terrors until they fade away. Your mind will heal, because your spirit is…well...strong."

She couldn't help the smallest of smiles, wondering what movie or comic book he had gotten such a cheesy line from. She wouldn't have been all that surprised to know that he had only just thought of it then and there. She shifted, a sharp pain reminding her of the inch wide wound still trickling blood into her lap. Her change of focus brought Leo's attention to the cut and he gasped, astonished that he had forgotten about it. He unwrapped his elbow pad quickly, using it to press against her abdomen. She didn't protest his attention, though she knew the stab was shallow and posed no threat.

She cocked her head, wondering quietly aloud. "How do I explain this…"

He responded without looking away from his task of bandaging.

"It's just another injury. Something to scar and remind us that we have a life worth fighting for."


	3. Lullaby

Consciousness came and went indiscriminately. Karai's mind felt like a small buoy rolling atop ceaseless waves, surfacing for only a short while before dipping below into the depths again. She dreamt of being some sort of sea snake, gliding through the water with her smooth scales and lithe body. Somewhere in the distance, she could hear a soft male voice singing words that seemed familiar but out of place among her struggles.

"Tooku ni ite mo kimi ni todoku darou..."

 _Perhaps I can reach you, even though you're far away_

She recognized the words now, as the beginning of a popular lullaby in Japan. She had seen the occasional mother cradle their child to this melody, though she would pretend not to be listening. Her father looked down on such trivial sentiments, and would respond harshly if Karai showed any signs of such softness.

Her mind began to collect awareness as she corrected herself. He was not her father.

"Kono boku ga kokoro kome okuru messeeji..."

 _I send you this message with all of my heart_

The voice had the rasp of age, but the words spilled soft and familiar. When her eyelids cracked open, she was greeted by honey-brown eyes so much like her own. A small smile played on the rat's muzzle as he stroked her hair, continuing pleasantly. "Kibou koso rashinban sa Ai wo yubisasu yo..."

 _Hope is certainly a compass that points to love_

Her mind and body both betrayed her as she could do nothing but lie there in silence. Never had the soothing comforts of a lullaby been meant for her, and the reality of it struck her unresponsive. It seemed wrong, but something she didn't want to put a stop to. Like profiting from someone's mistake. His words were akin to finding fine silver on the street: it had to have been a mistake to come upon it, but one is tempted to pick it up nonetheless.

"Nemure Sotto nemure Kanashimi wo wasurete..."

 _Sleep, sleep gently, for tomorrow is a continent of dreams._

The confusion must have shown on her face, for the last two verses were left unsung. His hand continued to stroke her hair as he sighed, then offered an explanation to her uncertain gaze. "It's called Hoshi No Rarabai."

She nodded, accepting the fact that the ethereal moment of self indulgence had evaporated. Her voice cracked from not yet being used that day. "Hai. Lullaby from the stars."

He tilted his head in acknowledgement of the translation. His hand went from stroking her hair to cupping her head gently, thumb brushing the loose strands from her face. "Tang Shen used to sing it to you." Her eyes widened in surprise while Splinter's smile twisted into a wry grin. "It was the only lullaby, as a matter of a fact." Amusement was apparent in his voice as he reminisced. "I would tease her about singing the same song, over and over again. I joked that those would be the only words you would know. But she would just smile and ignore my taunting. It...it was your mother's favorite lullaby, and she wanted you to have the things that she loved. "

Her vision blurred as tears fell of their own accord. Her sinuses stung as wet tracks quickly marred her cheeks. Her mother would sing to her the very lullaby that she had envied of others. Despite her father's apparent teasing, here he was, singing the same words that her mother had meant for her. The song was popular in Japan, something sung to many children at one point or another. Yet now, it was something incredibly special. She would always know now that it was a gift, something that her mother had left for her that could never be taken away.

Calloused fingers, softened by the fabric of a handkerchief, brushed the wetness from her face. Seeing his eyes dance with their own moisture, she wondered how many of his tears had already collected in the cloth. He had it there with him for a reason, after all. She sniffled, trying to keep the dam from breaking all over again. It seemed to be one thing after another with her life, some of it horrible and some of it...amazing.

He broke their companionable quiet with a question. "Are you hungry?"

She shook her head and opened her mouth to voice a request, then shut it quickly. Perhaps too quickly. His eyes were piercing all of a sudden, as if he could see the unspoken words if only he stared hard enough. It made her uncomfortable, reminding her of the often painful and always frightening repercussions of getting caught hiding things from her father. She cringed then, having to remind herself yet again that the man she compares Splinter to is _not_ her father. Yoshi's gaze was pointed and searching, but not angry. He knew that she was withholding, yet didn't seem to take personal insult to it. The concern on his face gave her the bravery to voice the request that she had been quick to dismiss.

"Will you finish the song, father?"

The happiness that broke across his face was worth all of the awkward apprehension. A warmth blossomed in her chest. She marveled at how something so simple, something she had never allowed herself to want, brought this man such joy. He hummed softly to find the right tune, then started from the beginning. Once the three verses were finished, he seamlessly looped back to start again. His hand stroked through her hair soothingly as his voice carried the lullaby of her mother, and she slipped back into the familiar darkness of sleep. Rather than tossing her about, however, the waves of her subconscious rocked a gentle rhythm.

* * *

Author's note: A short one, I know. There's a piece one ahead of this one already written, but it felt like it needed some working up to. The lullaby referenced is called Hoshi No Rarabai. I'm not at all familiar with Japanese lullabies and relied solely on just basic online research, but I thought that the lyrics would strike Karai the right way. I apologize for any inaccurate portrayal of the song.


	4. Brothers

Humming a little tune to himself, Donatello cut a path across the lair toward Karai's room with a clean laboratory vial in his hand. He had nearly reached the door when Leo descended upon him, with the sharp observation of a mother hawk that swoops around the nest day and night. "What is that for?"

Don held the glass tube in question up, giving it a little wave. "Well, I was thinking that it would be a good idea to have some anti-venom on hand. You know, in case of an accident." His voice was sincere, implying that he was truly thinking only of unintentional scenarios. Don being Don, however, Leonardo could understand his brother's need to have all their bases covered. The turtle was a compulsive hoarder, collecting medicines and tech to stow away _just in case_. The redeeming fact of the matter was that Donnie seemed to be able to find a use for everything at some point.

Leo considered his brother, frowning slightly. Don rose an eyeridge in question as Leo placed a hand in his shoulder and started guiding him away from the door. "Yeah, that's a good idea Don. I just don't think...you're the one to do it. Not so soon, anyway."

Donatello stopped and shrugged out of the other turtle's grasp, turning to face him. "And why not? Splinter said that she's recovering well. It's a painless procedure, Leo. The edge of the glass just needs to put enough pressure on her venom glands to stimulate the milking process." Don looked his brother up and down, his voice teasing. "You're not her only brother, you know."

Leo shifted uncomfortably, unsure how much to really say. Unfortunately, the words were coming out before he could filter them. "Yeah, but you were the one who screamed the most." He wanted to slap himself on the head as his brother's playful demeanor turned to one of confusion. Don's eyes grew serious and confused. "What are you talking about?"

Leo fidgeted and looked around quickly to make sure they weren't being overheard. Mike and Raph were still topside, and Splinter was no doubt in the room with Karai. That left him alone with Donatello, and the decision to share something that Karai had whispered to him in confidence. He warred with himself for a few moments before his brother's searing scrutiny finally won out. He sighed, gesturing with an open hand. "In the torture chambers. You were the one in the most pain, the one screaming the most."

Don frowned, his ego a little bruised. He was certain that Leo was trying to point out some weakness of his as a poorly diverted excuse. His voice came out high strung and defensive, "Well, sorry Leo. I know that I only had several volts of electricity shooting through my head!"

Leo moved quick as a flash, hand covering his brother's mouth and pushing them both further away from the door. He moved his face closer to Don's, speaking quickly and in hushed tones. "Don't you think she knows that?! She still hears the screaming, Don. The pain she caused you rips into her whenever the memory surfaces. She hears it every time she sees your face!"

The hand was removed from Donnie's mouth, leaving him visibly shaken. He thought of that wide eyed look of terror that she had first fixed him with, and how her eyes would avert in shame. He knew, logically, that she was pained by what had happened. He could certainly understand her guilt. But never had he considered that the sound of his tortured voice still echoed through her mind like a flashback.

His hands dropped in defeat as he conceded. "All right, Leo. Not right now."

A few hours went by before Donatello made his way back to that closed door. He spent the entirety of the short trek watching every shadow, half expecting a mama Leo to come swooping in from out of nowhere. His journey was undisturbed, however, proving that even his blue-banded brother couldn't keep a constant vigil.

The room was quiet as he let himself in, but Karai was already sitting up. She looked at him, wincing in recognition. She tried to hold his gaze, to be strong, but eventually gave up with a slide of her eyes. He approached tentatively, fumbling with something in his hands. Scrutinizing the fibers of the ratty comforter, she spoke with a false steadiness. "Donatello."

"Hey Karai." He watched her, wondering if she were hearing him scream in the back of her mind. She gave her head a small, nearly imperceptible shake as if trying to get rid of something. It was subtle, but he had caught it.

With fidgety hands, he placed something on the bedside table. "I, uh, fixed this up. It's a really old model, with only two hundred megabytes of ram and only four gigs of memory. But it works. And I've already connected it to the lair's WiFi, so you can probably find just about anything to play. Just can't save much to the device itself." He shuffled his feet awkwardly, "So, yeah. Let me know if there's any problems with it."

With that, the turtle retreated with moderate speed. Once the door closed again in quiet solitude, Karai looked over at the end table. Sitting there like the gift that it was, was an old looking cell phone complete with scratches and dings. There was no service other than the WiFi he had mentioned, and there were only a few apps displayed on the screen. They were music apps.

She picked up the taped and repaired earbuds that were plugged into the phone's jack, and gingerly put them in.

* * *

At the edges of Karai's consciousness, she could sense the tug of a presence too intense to be her father. Leonardo, she assumed. Whenever Splinter was away from her side, it was the turtle in blue who would keep a vigil on her well being. While she appreciated his discretion about that night in the dojo a few days back, his concern and enthusiastic doting was beginning to rub her the wrong way. She was torn between genuine gratefulness and the impulse to lock him out of the bedroom.

She tried to pin her bristly nature on a lifetime of being trained to be dependent on no one. She even tried to tell herself that she wanted to be left alone out of pride and ego. If she looked deep within herself, as she has been forced to do lately in this limbo of recovery, she could not so easily fool herself. The truth of the matter was that she still felt shame, anger, and the suffocating tragedy of betrayal. Her initial response had been to lash out and seek retribution, and had made things so much worse not only for herself, but for the Hamato family as well. Her selfish act of vengeful rage those months ago had only made her realize how much of a tool she had been to Saki, rather than a loved one. Her family, her life, her body, and even her mind had been broken down to be built up to his image. Everything had been taken from her. _Everything_.

"Oh no, Karai. You're, like, having a sad dream or something."

There was hand on her shoulder, giving a gentle shake. She mentally berated herself for allowing the tears to escape when she _knew_ that she had felt a presence. She had gotten so wrapped up in her thoughts that she had completely forgotten that someone else was there. Despite her earlier assumption, however, it wasn't Leonardo's voice.

Her eyes cracked open to find a green freckled face, staring at her with concerned baby blues. She blinked a few times to clear away the tears, hoping to pass it off for sleepiness. Her voice cracked only a little as she greeted her visitor. "Yeah. I guess I was."

Mikey was sitting Indian style next to her on the floor, rocking side to side just slightly. She mused over the fact that this one rarely seemed to embody any kind of stillness. The only time she had seen the turtle truly motionless was after she had…

Right. When she attacked him.

"Wanna talk about it?"

Karai realized that she had been staring off into space, and quickly gave a shake of her head in response. Mikey wasn't one to be deterred, and had an immediate rebuttal. "Are you suuuure you don't want to share dreams? I had a pretty crazy one last night that...well, I don't want to ruin the ending. But let's just say that kangaroo pouches are totally hammer spaces."

Her brows knitted together as she considered his words. He was watching her with such eager enthusiasm, she couldn't resist the question as it fell from her lips. "What's hammer-space?"

His eyes went wide in disbelief, making her wonder if this was some sort of common knowledge that had managed to slip through the cracks of her awareness. He leaned forward, eyes darting left and right as if preparing to unveil a great conspiracy. His voice was quiet and _almost_ serious. "You ever wonder how cartoon characters and comic book peeps are able to make things just appear? Like they just pull this hammer- or whatever, out of their pocket…" His voice lowered an octave, eyes locking with hers. He leaned in closer still, adding to the dramatic effect. "...Even if they're not wearing pants?"

She wanted to roll her eyes. Really, she did. Somehow, though, the gravity of his words paralyzed her face into a frozen, blank stare. This kid was a life-long trained ninja, just like herself. A seasoned warrior. Yet here he was, his face earnest and obviously invested as he theorized about cartoon physics and magical pockets of space. He was also her father's son, and it spoke volumes that he was comfortable and confident enough to be his silly, unrestrained self. Her mind wandered briefly to how you can tell a lot about a person based on how happy and healthy their pets seem, then she was suddenly struck by the realization that Michelangelo was trying to make _her_ happy. Apparently, this was how he cheered people up.

And it was just sneaky enough to work.

The blank stare cracked around the edges as the corners of her lips pulled up into a grin. This lit Mikey's face up into an explosion of a smile, compelling him to continue in excited tones. "You see? Hammer space is what you call that unexplainable, extra-dimensional, bag-of-holding kind of space. Where you can put things and pull them back out later."

She nodded, taking a deep breath. "Yeah, I get it."

The turtle continued, realizing that he now had a receptive audience. "But what I don't get is...why Raph decided to live in the hammer-space of this kangaroo's pouch! I mean, yeah, there's something to be said for mobile living. But what does that say about the kangaroo's judgement in tenants? Every now and then, Raph would just poke his head out from the pouch and tell us to 'keep it down out there.' Didn't seem to bother the kangaroo at all!"

The next hour or so was spent listening to the turtle's dreams, many of which Karai suspected were being made up on the spot. At times he would jump up and act the scenes out, completely committing himself to the story-telling. She allowed the amusement to wash away the dark, self-pitying thoughts. While she knew that she would have to work through them eventually, she found the sincere bubbling of Mikey's imagination and cheer to be a welcome distraction.

When Splinter finally came to usher the rambunctious teen out of the room, Karai was able to fall back to sleep with the barest hint of a smile.

* * *

The blankets made a veritable cocoon around Karai's body as the music made a valiant attempt at drowning out her thoughts. She had selected some sort of electronic pop that Don had apparently preloaded into the phone. While it didn't suit her usual taste in music, the synthesized beat with a minimal human touch turned out to be exactly what her mind needed at the moment. It was too upbeat to be monotonous, but lacked the provocation that a voice and lyrics could cause.

That afternoon, there was only one voice and one set of lyrics that the kunoichi wanted to hear: her father singing her mother's lullaby. Her pride stood in the way of asking, however. She was a professional, competent young woman! Not a child that asks for a nursery rhyme in bed.

She wanted to get out of bed. Really, she did. Her muscles were stiff and weak still, but it was getting to the point that atrophying in bed was doing more harm than the recuperation was doing good. She needed to stretch, move, and get her body back under her own control.

 _Control_.

Now that was the problem, wasn't it? Leonardo's speech those days ago about taking control of the present, of navigating who she would become, had not fallen on deaf ears. In theory, it sounded good. It was even hopeful enough to keep the ebbs of darkness at bay. Try as she might, though, it had not been enough to give her the strength to face the world again. Most especially the family that she didn't deserve, yet had such bright expectations of her. Sister, they called her. Most disturbing of all, was how much they meant it as a term of endearment. After everything she had put them through, they all had to be incredibly foolish. It was either them, or it was...her.

"So another day of doing nothin', huh?"

Even the music in her ears couldn't drown out the attitude in Raphael's voice as he looked in from the doorway. She fought the urge to roll her eyes at him, but chose instead to pull the earbuds away. She did manage to make the movement show all of the unhappiness she felt at being interrupted. Never mind the fact that his words had reflected her own spiraling thoughts.

She managed a glare in his direction, but her voice sounded too soft. She meant to fill it with scorn and challenge, but the words fell from her lips with a certain lackluster. "And if it is?"

The look on his face smoothed into something more gentle, and she wanted to kick herself for sounding so...empty. She may not be feeling herself, but she'd be damned if she needed his pity. She managed to screw a little more snideness into her next words, cutting off whatever sickly encouraging fortune cookie wisdom he was no doubt about to say. "What's the matter? Am I taking the spotlight away from your own sulking? Am I infringing on your trademark?"

He seemed unphased, crossing his arms and bumping his shoulder against the door frame in a casual lean. "Nah, you can have that territory if you want. I just kinda thought that you'd want your own trademark."

She turned the music off to save the phone's battery, realizing that this was more than a moment's check-in. She prided herself on how much cynicism she was able to lace her response with. "All right, I'll play your game. What trademark would I want?"

He shrugged nonchalantly, "I thought that we'd have this kick-ass kunoichi on the team now. Someone strong and skilled and doesn't take shit." He unfurled his arms and straightened back up as if to leave. "But hey, life's full of disappointments."

Anger flashed through her mind, immobilising Karai for several seconds. Her gut clenched as heat rushed through her body, her hands squeezing into fists above the comforter. By the time she could form coherent thoughts, she found herself sitting up and yelling at the sight of a retreating shell. "DISAPPOINTMENT?! How DARE you talk to me about disappointment! You know nothing, _nothing_ of what my life has been. If my crushing failures disappoint you, then you can go sit on your sai and rotate!"

Raphael turned slowly and stepped back into the room, closing the door behind him. Her breathing labored under the seething rage, but he seemed undisturbed by the murderous look she was setting on him. His own eyes shone fiercely, a green so bright with emotion that she was surprised by the calmness of his tone. "Failure is something that I'm way too familiar with, _sis_. I've had that bug inside my brain too, making me fight the people I care for. You became Super Bitch and yeah, I'd be ashamed too. But trust me, _knowing_ that what you're doing is wrong does not make it better. It makes you sick, makes you hate yourself for not being strong enough to do anything about it."

Her breathing had evened but her eyes continued in their terrible glare. He gestured into the air with his hand, continuing without giving her a chance to respond. "And the shit that other people have done to you isn't your problem any more. It bites, I get that. Betrayal hurts like a son of a bitch, and I can't relate to the level that it happened to you. But we all got our demons, girl. I've made a lot of mistakes, and there are a lot of stupid regrets that I have to live with. There are times where I've hurt my own family, could have even gotten them killed. Failure and I know each other pretty well."

Mind still clouded by anger and indignation, Karai reached for words that she hoped would dig at him. "So what you're saying is, that I shouldn't trust you at my back."

He shook his head, letting the jab roll off of him. "I'll have your back, Karai. You're Master Splinter's daughter, our sister. You're part of this family, and I'll protect this family with everything I've got."

She held herself silent, already feeling embarrassed by her petty attempt of knocking him down while he was giving her such a display of honesty. It's just that such open honesty about feelings and faults felt incredibly new and awkward to her. It was something that she wasn't yet good at. Apparently, her newly discovered brother wasn't finished yet.

"And you're right, I don't know what your life was. But I know what it is now, and I know that you're wasting it away feeling sorry for yourself. It doesn't matter if it's justified, what matters is that you're stronger than that."

The air felt thick and stagnant once there were no more words to fill its empty space. They stared at one another by the soft light of the lamp as Karai tried to force herself to think of an adequate response. Her searching was abruptly, thankfully, interrupted by the door swinging open. There stood Splinter, who took only a quick glance around the room before raising his brows at Karai in question. She gave a blank face in return, giving no clues as to what he had interrupted. Clearing his throat, he set the silent turtle with a knowingly stern look. "I thought that I had heard yelling earlier."

Raph's eyes slid to the side to look away, but he said nothing. After several heavy moments of not receiving a response, he took a deep breath, then stepped further into the room so that he was not obstructing the doorway. He would let the matter drop, but his tone hinted at his disapproval. "Perhaps I had imagined it. Because I know, Raphael, that you are aware of my explicit instructions to allow Karai her rest."

The young turtle nodded with a gruff, "Yes, Master Splinter. I was just leaving."

The rat nodded and watched his son amble out of the room before then turning toward his daughter. To Raphael's credit, whatever exchange they had just shared had Karai looking more bright eyed and alert than he had seen since she had been returned to them. He reached out to pat her quilt-covered leg. "Speaking of which, I'll leave you to your rest."

He had barely turned when the sound of rustling covers and an exasperated voice stopped him, "I've had enough rest for a while." Karai swung her legs over the bedding, stretching a bit in preparation of standing. "But...I wouldn't mind hearing the lullaby one more time."

Splinter's face blossomed with a heartfelt smile, and he gracefully lowered himself to sit next to her on the bed. "You may hear it as often as you wish. It is yours. And when you have heard enough of it for the afternoon, we can move to the kitchen where I'll prepare some tea for us."

Her smile was small, but genuine. "I'd like that."


End file.
